


Winner Takes All

by moonrunes



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, New Mutants (Comics)
Genre: M/M, doug can read body language! i'm sorry doug, overuse of em dash, training turned tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-01-05 11:09:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonrunes/pseuds/moonrunes
Summary: happy birthday @flamebrain!!





	1. The Game is On Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soulfriend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulfriend/gifts).

> happy birthday @flamebrain!!

The _clack_ of training staves seemed to echo up the forbidding cliffs, carried on the wind, and Sam pretended he couldn’t see the curious faces of the younger generation, clustered around the rim and looking down into the makeshift training ring the New Mutants had claimed for their own. 

The current match had been going on for forever, it seemed -- Dani versus Doug, an intricate dance that had Xuyen and Warlock gasping worriedly from the sidelines. Every move she made, he countered -- clearly, being recently resurrected was no big deal to him. If anything, it’d done him good.

“Hurry up!” Amara called from where she stood next to Sam, shivering. “We’re gonna be here all day!”

“I’m okay with that.” On Sam’s other side, Roberto grinned -- fully powered up, he was clearly enjoying the sunny day, immune to Amara glowering at him. For Sam’s part, he rolled his eyes and resolved to only intervene if they decided to fight it out. For now, though, his co-leader’s fight was more interesting.

Doug struck, Dani parried, she countered, he defended. It was perfectly balanced on the edge of a knife when, in the blink of an eye-

She feinted, he blocked, and she struck -- he was down and out in a heartbeat, much to the entertainment of the students above, whistling and clapping for the victor. Dani, to her credit, gave them a wave before helping Doug to his feet, whispering something to him before heading towards where her teammates stood.

“Sam. Roberto. You’re up next. No powers, Bobby.”

“And waste a sunny day like this one?”

She glared at him and he powered down, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, fine. Can I at least have a stick?”

Dani tossed Sam her staff, nodding to him before leaning against the rock walls, next to where Xuyen’s wheelchair sat. Doug gave his and a few words to Roberto and Sam took up Dani’s former place, anticipation for the fight building in his chest and the spectators murmuring around them. Roberto gave him a sly smile, flipping his staff around his hand lazily, settling into the ready position.

A beat of stillness.

Roberto lunged and Sam blocked, reveling in how easily it all came back to him. Roberto never let up, not even for a second, but neither did Sam -- and this time, there was no mutation to give credit to, not how it had been with Doug and his newfound ability to read body language.

Just as it had always been. Sam and Roberto, against the world.

The clearing felt gritty under Sam’s bare feet, the wind freezing the sweat on his arms and making him shiver involuntarily, and across from him, as they broke away and circled each other like wolves, he saw Roberto shiver too. Sam raised an eyebrow at him and Roberto made a face back, years together translating into something that was uniquely _them._

Again, in the middle. Again, the _clack_ of the training staves. 

“You’re better at this than you were at Stevie’s dancing lessons,” Roberto huffed, blocking Sam and drawing away. “Why is that?”

Sam shrugged. “Don’t ask me.”

“I want to know. This is a dance too, technically. Sort of.”

“Is it?” Sam took a step forward, Roberto took a step back, towards where the sea raged against the side of Utopia. “Feels more natural than the tango, don’tcha think?”

“Maybe.” There was the grin again, the infectious da Costa smirk, before he whirled away and his staff jabbed him in the back, hard, much to the entertainment of the students above. 

Sam wavered at the edge before regaining his balance, ducking below Roberto’s staff and not-too-gently whacking him in the ribs. “Don’t get cocky.”

“You love it.” 

Now the feints and parries came faster, the sound echoing up the cliffs along with what passed as witty banter, mostly from Roberto (though Sam couldn’t count himself innocent). He could hear the kids making bets, could feel his teammates’ eyes on him, but his eyes stayed on his opponent, every muscle tensed in wariness.

Roberto was breathing hard, too, though he tried to hide it, and Sam’s opening came sooner than he thought -- a hard thump against his upper back when Roberto tried to turn. Roberto winced and grinned at him again, almost wild.

“Is that how it’s gonna be?” 

“That’s always how it was.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Faster. 

Sam no longer felt the wind, the adrenaline taking over and his heart beating in time with his footsteps. It did feel like a dance, in a way -- every move he made in time with Roberto, whether he was across the ring or close enough to see the patterns in the iris of his eye. 

It felt so familiar, it made his heart ache. Part of him wished to stay in this moment forever, dancing just out of reach, but the other part wondered what would happen if he gave in, came closer, just close enough to reach him. The heat in his chest and stomach pulled him closer, staves meeting in a handful of blows before they parted again.

Roberto panted from where he’d whirled out of Sam’s reach, his back to the cliffs, half smiling. “Damn. Giving them a show, huh?”

“I aim to please ‘n all that.” Sam grinned back, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Ready to give in?”

“You wish, Guthrie.”

“Your call, da Costa.”

“Wrap it up,” Amara complained.

Sam took a step forward, staff ready, then another. _One foot in front of the other._ Roberto had no choice but to back up until he was against the cliffs, Sam’s staff at his throat.

“I win.” Sam knew his eyes were alight, probably in the same way Roberto’s shone, but he grinned anyways until something poked him in the ribs.

“You win, but you’re dead,” Roberto countered, baring his own teeth. “I think they call this a _draw_, Sammy boy.”

“Break it up, boys,” Dani called. “‘Mara, ‘Yana, take their staves if they haven’t broken them yet.”

Sam stepped back, breathing heavily, tossing Amara his staff before pulling Roberto close to his side, laughing between breaths. “Hell of a fight, compadre.”

“Not too bad yourself.” Roberto leaned against him dizzily, laughing as they made their way back to the cliff. “I think you can count it as a win for me, though.”

“What? I won, fair and square.”

“You would’ve died if this had been real, buddy.”

Doug snorted. “Please just agree to disagree.”

“Wait. Doug, you can read body language now, right? Who won?” Roberto demanded, crossing his arms and leaning against the cliff wall. Sam followed his gaze, raising his eyebrow when Doug buried his face in his hands.

“God. I can’t look at _either_ of you in the face ever again. Warlock-”

Doug made a series of unintelligible chirps and Warlock replied in kind, both of them glancing shiftily at the other two until Sam felt the tips of his ears turn red. “What?”

“That means I won, yes?”

Doug coughed. “Define ‘win.’”

“Won the match. Ramsey, where were you for the past however-long-we-were-in-the-ring?” Roberto clapped him on the shoulder and Doug grimaced at the ground. 

“Uh. I feel like neither of you know what body language says. Or implies. Whatever. Gotta go.”

“Huh. Wonder what’s eating at him,” Sam commented, watching as Doug and Warlock made for the ladder. “Think we’ll ever figure it out?”

Roberto shrugged. “Not likely. Still sure I won, though.”

“In your dreams.”


	2. Spectators of the Show

In the interests of “community” and “morale,” Utopia was having a party.

Earlier in the night, the floor had been full of the teenage X-Men, linking arms and dancing to Dazzler’s music, but now, with most of them retired for the night (early training sessions made short nights, Roberto supposed), there was mostly only the older classes of X-Men, chatting and mingling and for some of them (Emma and Scott chief among them though certainly not the only ones), dancing slowly to an old record. 

Roberto snuck a glance to his side -- yes, Sam was still there, talking to Dani, his tie hanging loose around his neck. The two of them had been hanging out at the edge of the dance floor all night, official “chaperones” for the kids, but now that the average age in the room was higher than twenty, Roberto felt the pull of the dance floor, still bathed in lights. 

“Sam.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m bored. Dance with me?”

The music changed, something more upbeat and happy, and Sam grinned, looking at the ground, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Aw, ‘Berto. Y’know I can’t dance.”

“Then I’ll lead. C’mon!”

~~~

“Hey, Doug. Why the sour face?”

Doug didn’t immediately reply, scowling at the dance floor so hard Dani thought for a second about making a joke about his face freezing like that. Warlock, strangely silent, hovered on Doug’s other side, watching the dance floor with befuddlement. 

Finally, Doug spoke. “Dani.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember that movie night when Magneto walked in at like, the worst possible moment?”

“And he tried to give us the talk about ‘appropriate media?’ Yeah, I remember. Wish I didn’t.”

“Cool. I’m having _flashbacks_.”

“To the talk? Why?”

“Not the talk. The feeling, you know, when you walk in on something you really shouldn’t. And it’s cause of them.” He jerked his head curtly at the dance floor, where, in the middle, Sam and Roberto were attempting to dance, laughing.

Dani stared at them for a few seconds, cringing with secondhand embarrassment, before looking back at Doug. “I don’t follow.”

“‘S cause you’re not _looking_.”

“Okay, Sherlock, what am I looking for?”

Doug pushed off the wall and squinted at the dancing pair -- for a second, Dani worried that one or both of them would notice but before she could say so, Doug spoke.

“Look at the way Roberto looks at Sam.”

“Uh huh?”

“Like he’s the only one in the room, right? Which _no one else_ in the room is doing, not even Scott and Emma, but Roberto can because he can afford to. ‘Cause Sam’s his shield, always has been -- unless something’s changed while I was, you know, dead?”

“Not that.” Dani looked closer, at the light in Roberto’s eyes and the way his eyes seemed to linger even when Sam broke eye contact to look at the floor. “Okay, you got me there. And…?”

“Look at what Sam’s body language says. He gravitates towards Roberto but he keeps stepping backwards, automatically fighting his own mind. He’s scared, of rejection probably, so it divides him. His instinct is to be closer but he doesn’t want to make it weird, so he’s actively noticing and combating it. See?”

As Doug gave words to it, Dani thought she really did begin to see -- the little half-steps Sam took backwards to keep some distance between them, the brief hesitation before he took Roberto’s hand, the definite red in the tips of his ears and his cheeks, how carefully he handled Roberto’s hands in his.

“So. What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that they’re in love.”

“...oh.”

“But, and this is very important, neither of them realize it’s reciprocated. They might not even realize it themselves.”

“You should be Utopia’s relationship counselor,” Dani joked feebly, trying to maneuver around the giant truth that he just dropped. “Especially with that, uh, gentle handling of the truth.”

It dawns on Dani, then -- the quick excuses Doug had made in exiting the training ring just a few days ago. “Wait. Is this what that training thing was about?”

“Last Tuesday? Sort of.”

“How sort of?”

Doug coughed. “Uh. This, right here, is basically a different flavor of the same thing -- what did you call it, Locke?”

“Interpersonal-romantic-physical-wanting-soulfriends. Like-but-notlike-selfsoulfriendDoug,” Warlock chirped, and Doug nodded. 

“Sure. That’s the long and short of it.”

“Alright.” The three of them watched the dancing attempts of the two subjects for a few minutes more before Dani broke the silence. 

“So what are we going to do about it?”


End file.
